


Footloose

by BlackWadeWilson



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dancer Diego Hargreeves, Dancing, Implied/Referenced Incest, Included later:, Klaus has too much curiosity, M/M, Mentions of the Hargreeves siblings, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-02 05:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18805108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackWadeWilson/pseuds/BlackWadeWilson
Summary: It’s hard for Number 2 to express himself, he doesn’t really seem to have much beyond his anger, his sass, and his knives.Klaus on the other hand has his escape methods and his art, but too much time and curiosity. He can be a bit mosey, a bit too intrigued by everything.-Or-Five times Klaus caught Diego dancing + one time they danced together.





	1. Walk This Way

**Author's Note:**

  * For [captainiron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainiron/gifts), [listlessness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/listlessness/gifts).



> There will be more chapters soon. Y’all can HMU on my friend’s TUA discord server:
> 
> https://discord.gg/ZrqDJpN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to song:
> 
> https://youtu.be/C0lOtAffy30

Thirty minute of free time, every Saturday at the same time of day. Even when the sun was shining and the day was bright, warm and welcoming, they were only allowed thirty minutes. Only thirty, what can you do on thirty minutes? Well, Klaus could roll a few joints, Ben could probably finish another two chapters in whatever book caught his fancy, Allison could buy another twenty outfits, Luther would just work out some more like the muscle head he was, Vanya would just keep playing her violin, five would just work on more of his equations. But Diego was somehow more of a mystery, he never really showed much interest in anything beyond barbing Luther, glaring at their father, learning how to quell his stutter, or throwing a bunch of knives. Even Klaus had a hobby beyond smoking, he could actually draw or write, sometimes mix them together into one medium as he scrawled on the walls with tight but wild cursive and layered the paper with countless drawings and life studies. It was during his weekly Saturday musings, after gulping down a glass of mixed cocktail of whatever booze was easiest to get to, that Klaus found himself wandering the academy halls while his siblings were off doing their own things. It was as he was approaching the bedrooms he heard something, something that sounded like muffled drums banging in a solid beat, a guitar grinding on top of the drums in a heated riff.

Dark brows pinched, confusion scrunching his sharp yet baby fat rounded face as he stopped his nomadic journey. He blinked, that was definitely a guitar, a guitar and drums? He shook his head, thinking it wasn’t possible for music of all things to be playing down by the bedrooms, especially rock like music. Then the voices began, it was forceful rap, the voices shouting into the mic and entering Klaus’ ears even from his spot located in the hallway, this was new. Klaus stepped carefully, confused yet so completely intrigued; the banging drum the hits strong, sharp and clear with practiced ease, the talented fingers running up the fretboard of a guitar, the shouted words, it painted a completely new picture for Klaus. Sure he could recognize rap-rock for what it was but Reginald only liked having classical and opera music in the academy, the idea of someone playing such wild music in the old academy was almost ludicrous to Klaus.

The young medium had no idea what the rappers were saying, he was too busy focusing on making as little noise as possible as he walked down the hall. He someone rapping about “started with a little kiss” but to him the words could have been said in an entirely different langue, the medium so unused to the music that he was almost shaken to the core. A lopsided smile stretched his face, loving the music because it was so outplace, the closer he stepped the noise making more and more sense at to why it was playing. He could’ve laughed. A black eyebrow quirked, it was coming from Diego’s room all places, it made so much sense that a heavy, weight drum beat and grinding guitar would be vibrating the floor and crashing out of the marksman’s room. It made so much sense, yet none of all, Diego wasn’t rapping along, which honestly would have been a sight Klaus would have paid a thousand bucks for, he wasn’t singing either to the scratchy rasp scream of singing. The medium’s eyes were wide with fascinated interest as he crept along, baffled and incredibly interested by the racket.

 _“Hey diddle diddle with a kitty in the middle!”_ Those were words Klaus could understand,not understand the meaning of, but he could that they were saying the words. The door was open by the barest crack, Klaus thanking any and all gods that existed that Diego didn’t close the door all the way, the heavy oak door open by the barest crack. A thin hand carefully pushed the door open, Klaus making sure it didn’t swing open and ruin his chances of watching the source of all the noise. He made it just in time, the rappers shouting: _“She taught me to walk this way!”_

Right as the chorus hit and a raspy almost scream like singing began to scratch over the guitar and drums Klaus could have sworn Diego glided across his room’s floor. It wasn’t a big room by any means, Diego having to push his bed far off to one side in order to have the space to dance along with the gritty yet bouncy music. Slide, cross, toe, cross slide, Diego spinning on the rapper’s interjection so he could switch the glide to a rapid criss crossing movement of his legs. The moves were slightly awkward, as if he had just learned them three days before, but the more he repeated the moves the more confident Diego seemed to become. The marksman bounced to the jumping guitar, rolling and popping his shoulders with every strong best of the drum.

His shoulders shimmied, Diego leaning forward a bit as he worked his arms in a strange jutting swinging motion that fit the song so well. He looked like such a dork, Klaus caught between laughing at Diego outright and applauding him. Here was this lanky light skinned kid in a mansion wearing a loose tank top and shorts as he danced along to a bouncy beat and swelling guitar. There was no denying he had talent, Diego looked good, almost as he danced along, it was just the absurdity of it all that was getting to Klaus. The medium couldn’t stifle a bubble of laughter, seeing Diego try to move his awkward pre teen limbs around to match the music and pull off moves he’d only seen a few times before.

The music stopped. Diego dove for his cassette and immediately turned it off, abruptly ending the jumping din as he wheeled around to face the door that was not that open when he got there. Wild brown met bright green, Diego’s face bright with red as he turned into a tomato caught between embarrassment and pure anger. Klaus let out a fearful squeal, bolting down the hall as Diego stomped over to the door like he was going to kill Klaus. He was fuming, steam ready to pour out of his and heat the room to sauna like temperatures, the young medium couldn’t take that. He ran as fast as he could, shouts echoing down the hallway, following the black haired pre teen as he almost tripped down the stairs in his rush.

Loud steps banged against the floor, trying to follow and catch the speedy medium, he had no such luck. Klaus found a closet door and slammed it shut, curling himself up in a corner. Angry steps creaked the floor, loud huffs puffing into the air, Klaus covering his mouth and nose so Diego wouldn’t hear his pants. There was no doubt in his mind that Diego would’ve skinned him right then and there for spying on him during their thirty minute free time. A curious thought swirled in Klaus’ mind, wondering why the marksman would be so embarrassed about his dancing hobby to as far as to chase Klaus away from his room. Diego looked so happy when he danced, if it was something that brought him so much enjoyment then why hide it? He could’ve groaned, realizing what it must’ve felt like for him, to be in the middle of dancing only to get laughed at by his own brother.

Oh he fucked up.

Klaus waited until he was absolutely certain that Diego left to go back upstairs. The medium staying in his cramped position inside the small broom closet before carefully opening the door up and dusting himself off. Their thirty minutes were nearly up, the pre teen sighing as he realized how little time he had left, enough time to maybe roll one joint and smoke a bit but not enough to _enjoy_  it. He hung his head, making his way to the brightly lit lounge room, light pouring inside cheerily from the tall windows as if he didn’t just ruin his good friendship with Diego by watching something he never should have watched. He slumped on the paisley printed beige couch, curling up in the corner as he considered his options. Maybe if he just apologized to Diego and explain it wasn’t his dancing that made Klaus laugh would help clean any dirty water now flowing between them. 

He sighed, knowing full well that Diego would never believe him. If he really walked up to the marksman and say, “it wasn’t you it was me” Klaus would probably get a fresh knuckle sandwich served up by an angry pre teen marksman. On the upside, Klaus wouldn’t need lunch. He giggled to himself, the laugh high pitches and slightly hysterical before he sobered up, pouting at the ceiling, narrowing his eyes as if he were trying to see the strands of time that would lead him to the best ending. A long sigh left his baby face, eyebrows drawing together when the ceiling didn’t give him the answers he desperately needed to receive. 

Reginald’s voice blared through the speakers, announcing the end of free time and the beginning of training. Klaus got up, placing his feet on the floor as he sat up, groaning when he prepared to leave. The medium slowly stood up, knees creaking as he got up and began to head up the creaky hardwood floors, the cracks leaving the rich varnished wood rivaling the pops from his joints. Slowly, Klaus made his way up the stairs, forgetting that their bedrooms was where Diego probably went back to, the medium meeting the marksman far too soon. His green eyes widened, not ready for this confrontation when Diego just pushed past him with a grunt, blush high on his lightly tanned cheeks. Klaus reached out, trying to stop his brother from leaving without saying a word.

”Diego wait!” a long pale fingered hand wrapped around Diego’s arm, Klaus tugging on him to make sure the pre teen wouldn’t escape too soon and ignore the medium like he so clearly wanted to. “I wanted to say I’m sorry. It was just the music, I wasn’t expecting to hear something like that in a place like this. You’re really good at dancing.”

A sigh left his sibling, Diego turning around to face Klaus head on, arms crossed as he dragged his eyes up and down the medium with an assessing and analytical gaze. He quirked a dark eyebrow, lips briefly twitching in a firm pouting frown, dark brown eyes unforgiving and almost cold. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

”What? Diego but I just—“

”Drop it,” the angry marksman turned around, his words short and stilted as he stomped down the hallway to reach the stairs. “I never have and never will dance. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Klaus watched Diego trudge off, his green eyes sad as his brother turn his back on him and stomp away. Long fingers nervously riddled against each other, anxiousness and guilt welling up in the pale pre teen before he headed off to his room to change into his training gear, wondering to himself all the while if he’d ever hear music pounding down the hall again as Diego finally enjoyed himself instead of looking and acting like he was constipated. He really did mess this one up, didn’t he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose walk this way for this chapter because it’s such a nice song to glide into especially when you’ve never really had the chance to dance much before. It has solid guitar riffs, that rock singing, plus great rap vocals. He’s growing and trying to find his way, so he’s letting the music teach him how to walk this way.
> 
> Let the boy live.


	2. Welcome to the Jungle Sweet Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m gonna try to update every Sunday. Classes begin this week for me but I’m enjoying myself with this fic so please bear with me.
> 
> This chapter is mostly Welcome to the jungle by Guns N‘ Roses with a hint of Sweet Child O’ Mine. Tell me what y’all think in the comments! Thank you friends!
> 
> https://youtu.be/o1tj2zJ2Wvg
> 
> https://youtu.be/1w7OgIMMRc4

Five had recently disappeared, a full year since Klaus had caught Diego dancing and Five was already gone. It didn’t really disturb the waters but not having the arrogant boy around was still strange, an empty space growing in the place where he should have been, but it was inevitable if Klaus were honest. Five always thought he was better and smarter than anyone else, he wasn’t going to stay for long. The two of them were never particularly close but they were family, the odd and kind of haughty teleporter never spending much time with anyone beyond Vanya, but the two of them did have moments of quiet insanity where Klaus fueled Five’s desperate need for freedom. Sometimes Five was able to teleport with someone else, a small crew of him, Five, Ben and Diego heading out to get donuts and coffee from a nearby store. It was a strange and unlikely group, none of their personalities fully matching yet meshing in the oddest structure of familial friendship.

The late night excursions at least helped to bridge the gap between Klaus and Diego after he caught the marksman dancing. He never did hear music during free time, he never heard much to be honest, the halls were always quiet minus the sounds of knives imbedding themselves into walls and Luther’s grunts as he works out for the twentieth time that day. It was just one time he heard the music, but god he missed it, Diego looked happy and now he only smiled when it was just him an Grace, Klaus catching Diego’s small quirk of his lips after Grace strokes his face and congratulates him on not stuttering. It was cute, those quiet moments Klaus always seemed to be catching as he was passing them by, he didn’t think Diego ever caught him because that smile never vanished. Every time he saw it, something simmered in him, he was a bit jealous to see Diego’s expression, see how soft he was with their mother. He could never get that expression on Diego’s face, much less inspire any kind of look from anyone. Klaus was content with just watching though, since that’s what he was good at, watching, gazing, and hiding in the background as he drinks himself into oblivion. Even when they all went out on missions, Klaus was left watching, he was just Ben’s keeper, there for mild emotional support.

During his time musing to himself, Klaus walked past one of their training rooms, a freshly mixed glass of a home crafted cocktail in hand as he lightly swallowed down the burning liquid that tasted like strawberries and watermelon. He flinched at the burn before relaxing, a slight buzz already growing as his mind hazed. Klaus had spent more time in a mausoleum, the gaunt haunted faces of the dead following him around with every step he took, their chilling bony fingers tracing over his skin as he made his way through the academy. Liquor, weed, it all helped force the ghosts down, keep them at bay as Klaus let his mind float like was eternally submerged in water. Warm water that tasted like fruit and stung like he was downing a bubbling out of wasps. The burn was good, or at least good compared to the alternative. A sigh left his soft pink lips, Klaus rubbing over his face with an absentminded hand.

Thirty minutes was too little time, it was enough to be bored but not enough to actually do anything. It sucked, it sucked so much but he had no other choice, there was literally nothing else he could do. Some days the academy felt less like a home, and more like a prison, not that Klaus would ever admit that out loud, the walls have eyes and ears you know. His own ears pricked up, his brow furrowing, was that a guitar riff? He paused, stuck in a sudden sense of deja vu as he dos used on the muffled riff of a guitar, it was quiet, distant, almost as if it were coming from one of the training rooms. Green eyes glanced throughout the halls before he put his drink down on a strip of carpet, stepping cautiously down the hallway as his heart picked up its pace. He hoped to god it was music, that it was what he thought it was, that Diego was dancing again.

Closer. Closer. The music began to to grow louder, both picking up in rhythm and volume, the riffs suddenly swelling as a hushed scream swirled under the guitar like a ghost whispering into the music. His eyes were wide, intrigued, confused, and so wildly hopeful as he inches closer to the training room doors. He had done this many times before, had creaked the doors open to peer through them as his curiosity overcame his cautiousness, usually Klaus was disappointed by what watched. Before he had carefully inched the doors open to the sound of thumps and grunts, thinking he would catch one of siblings in the middle of an act that he could then use as teasing material, usually it was just Luther or Diego boxing. But this was definitely music, angry, screaming music fueled by teenage angst and annoyance with the people in power; it was perfect for the broody marksman, beyond perfect. Pale hands finally opened the doors enough to watch through Klaus making it in time to watch Diego jump with a brawler style kick at a “Cha!” The shout brought a break in the music, drums slamming as the guitar went rough strums to the full thrum of chords played by powerful experienced fingers. The marksman was dancing to the riffs and the slamming drums, kicking with one foot before bring it down to shuffle, repeating the move as he kicked and shuffled like a man who had been dancing for years. A jump forward, Diego playing an air guitar with the chords’ change, completely and wholly in his element as he ground, shuffled, kicked, and locked his arms in sharp jerky movements to the music.

“Welcome to the Jungle!” A voice sang, it was raspy, as if it had been screaming for decades and then turned its screams into song. “We got fun and games!” His lips quirked at the angsty sounding music, what was the singer even talking about? He had no idea, but he absolutely needed to know more. The music, the guitar, the only thing it was missing was the loud rapping from two men going at the mic as the tell a story about walking this way. Klaus settler onto on the floor, completely entranced by Diego dancing around the training room, he had improved so much since the last time Klaus saw him dance, and he wasn’t going to ruing this second moment any time soon.

There he was, dancing along to Guns’ N Roses was the residential angry marksman, playing an air guitar as he danced along to the loud music. Tossed on the floor was most of his uniform, the tanned tween sweaty as his skin almost glistened under the light, a thing sheen of sweat layering his body. Klaus watched him with an interested green gaze, following Diego as well as he could from his position behind a crack in the doors. Diego threw his head up and down violently, banging his head to the encompassing best as he moved his body sharp hard pops. He followed the loud guitar, pretending that he was playing once, nearly convincing Klaus that he’d held one before as the music guided the tanned tween to move with its notes. Diego bending forward with lower notes only to arch his back as the guitar solo hit a crescendo, stopping his air guitar skills with a flat footed kick out like he was fighting someone on the dance floor. Klaus felt his breath pause and stutter, mouth falling down as Diego almost glided along the hardwood floor, shifting on it with purpose as he jut his arms out with a hard almost locking type movement before the guitar slowed down and he popped his hips and chest in a slow shifting fashion as if he were slipping around like a snake.

“Down, so down.” Diego’s knees almost hit, carefully turning his legs as he shifted his weight on the balls of his feet before something akin to a tremor ran through his body. He did fall to his knees, jumping back up to his feet like a Russian dancer before pulling off a shaky yet so close to perfect pirouette. Klaus blinked with surprise, barely stifling a gasp, Diego looked incredibly natural in his movements, his body so well trained with every jump, and kick, and the harsh popping jab of his hands and elbows. Klaus’ wide green eyes followed Diego as he spun around the room, only stopping his chain of well done spins once the bass guitar began to flow out the speaker with its crunchy chords, sounding like a scene from of the martial arts scenes in the movie the two of them had snuck out to buy for five dollars at a nearby convenience store. He was fighting to the music, looking like a try hard dancing by himself, but a cool try hard, his movements well practiced and disciplined as if he had grown up as a dancer. As if he weren’t stuck in an old musty academy run by a sadist, as if he were actually free.

Wonder and a hint of envy welled up within Klaus, stuck in his emotions as Diego danced his way with something akin to liberation. The medium was just lost, following him with swirling emerald eyes, he moved with such anger filled confidence to the racket of drums and thrumming guitar and bass, the raspy singing scratching out from the music player Diego danced to. Klaus wondered how Diego managed to get his hands on the music, but he knew better than to ask the marksman any questions about his hobby he clearly gleaned freedom and enjoyment from, from the hobby Klaus nearly shied him away from with bubbling laughter at the wrong moment. God he was gorgeous, calculated movements and strength and so much freedom Klaus couldn’t look away. Diego worked hard on his dancing, even if the music was so angsty and angry, he was so good at it Klaus couldn’t say anything that would possibly deny it.

“You know where you are? You’re in the jungle baby!” If the jungle was the world created by Diego dancing Klaus was more than happy to stay there. A violent, harsh, powerful place, with guitar and raspy singing and Diego. Just Diego being Diego as he finally got some release from the stifling force of their father as he almost eternally watched over them all. Klaus sighed, the song was nearing the end, he couldn’t risk getting caught again, never again. They would need to go to their afternoon lesson soon, Diego could stop dancing at any moment and Klaus wasn’t risking it again.

The screamed singing began to draw to a conclusion, Klaus tiptoeing away from the training rooms, bending over to pick up his booze filled glass. He wished Diego was like that more often, wished he was like that with him.

A new guitar began playing in the back, the tune so different as the music shifted from harsh to almost smooth and lilting. The tune faded away, Klaus barely catching the words “Woaaah ohhhh! Sweet child ‘o mine!”

Diego had his music and Klaus had his ghosts. Diego had Reginald and Klaus had booze. A small thought waved through his head, Klaus wished he were someone’s sweet child. Ice clinked in the glass, Klaus tilting it back and swallowing it like he was swallowing water. He didn’t think that was going to happen anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also it’s almost Midnight so I’m so sorry for any errors, I will fix them up when I have the energy.


End file.
